


5 Times The Legends Thought Len And Mick Were Together & 1 Time They Didn’t Believe They Were

by icewhisper



Series: Leonard Snart Shorts [13]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-23 12:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14332200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icewhisper/pseuds/icewhisper
Summary: To be fair, Len thought they knew, okay?





	5 Times The Legends Thought Len And Mick Were Together & 1 Time They Didn’t Believe They Were

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of my writing blog, [leonardsnartwrites](https://leonardsnartwrites.tumblr.com/). Normally, it would have been posted under the collections fic, [Leonard Snart Shorts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10837056), but it ended up longer than planned.
> 
> Anonymous prompt: Coldwave + gen Legends team prompt - x number of times someone from the team thought they were together plus 1 time they actually were but no one believed them?

**1\. Rip**

Rip gave them separate rooms on the ship.

Len exchanged a curious look with Mick, but shrugged. It didn’t matter much to him. Two rooms just meant more space to put their stuff as they went on their shopping trip across time. Plus, it’d be nice to have separate corners to go back to when they needed the space. They may have gotten back to their version of normal for the most part, but that also included periods where they needed a few days apart.

Honestly, he thought most married couples could benefit from that.

“Beds are a little small, Rip,” he drawled while Mick snorted behind him.

“This is a time ship, Mr. Snart,” the captain said with disdain, “not a Motel 6.”

“You mean the beds don’t vibrate when you put a quarter in?” Len’s eyes widened dramatically. “Mick, we need to go back to Central.”

“I thought you liked the ones in Keystone,” Mick said with a barely contained grin.

“I do,” Len admitted. They ran too loud, but combine it with a heating pad and it was great when his back was bothering him. Plus, it made Mick laugh. “Change of plans. We need to go to Keystone.”

“You’re some of the older members of the crew,” Rip reminded them, irritated and long-suffering. “Please act like it.”

“We’re thieves,” Len reminded him. “We don’t exactly follow societal norms.”

“Ship seems smart,” Mick piped in. “Bet it could make the beds vibrate.”

“Beds,” Rip repeated, as if making two beds vibrate instead of one was ludicrous.

“We need options,” Len agreed. “Ambiance. I like decorating with art. Mick likes memorabilia.”

“Just wait until I get Zepplin’s guitar.”

Rip frowned at them, perplexed. “Partners?” he questioned.

“In sickness and in health,” Len deadpanned. “If it’s legal. Mick, was it legal?”

“For us or the aliases?” Mick asked innocently just before Rip walked away from them entirely. He met Len’s eyes with a grin. “Think he knows?”

“We’re legends,” Len said with the worst English accent he could muster. The snort Mick gave was completely undignified. “I’d bet it’s in the history books. CCPD were starting to figure it out before we left.”

“Finally.”

Len hummed in agreement. “You really think the ship can make the beds vibrate?”

 

**2\. Sara**

Flirting with Sara was a game. She met him comment for comment while Mick rolled his eyes and it was _fun_. It was meaningless if they wanted it to be and if they didn’t… It wasn’t as if he and Mick were _strictly_ monogamous. If the wind blew right and they felt like only being with each other, they’d speak up. Monogamy meant putting those rings back on significant fingers and the old school idea of forsaking all others.

They weren’t wearing their rings when they joined the Waverider. They were back together, but running on their old rhythms and it was fine. It was how they _worked_.

Mick had been amused by Sara from day one. Pegged her and the look Len was definitely giving her ass and told him _good luck_ , because Mick thought Len wouldn’t have a chance. Len would have been insulted if his idea of flirting with women didn’t usually end up being snarky comments that were only _kind of_ flirting and being overly forward in the same breath.

There was a reason he’d mostly only been with men.

But Sara was fun. Their comments became steps to an odd little dance that would go as far as they wanted it to. Maybe a bed. Maybe nowhere at all. It was enough to keep him on his toes and he saw the answering grin from her that said she was having just as good a time.

Which…didn’t quite explain the vaguely guilty look that took over her face when she’d asked for a sparring partner and saw a lingering hickey low on his neck.

“Where’d that come from?” she asked, sounding a little amused, but there was a sudden tension that hadn’t been there before.

He frowned at her, confused. “Mick,” he replied, because who else would it be from? They all knew they were together.

Guilt and hurt and anger and he really did not understand girls, because all of a sudden, she was muttering about men being infuriating.

Maybe he should just stop flirting with women.

 

**3\. Amaya**

They couldn’t see him anymore, not since Stein had taken the receiver out of Mick’s head. The thing hadn’t been functional in months, not properly, but it had been enough for Len. It had given him something to latch onto, something that solidified the connection between him and Mick, but with it gone…

Maybe it was for the best, he thought. Every time he’d appeared to Mick, he’d been frustrated and bitter and it wasn’t helping anything. It wasn’t as if telling Mick it was him would help anything, because they were right. He was blown through the time stream in millions of pieces, floating through time and space until it was all happening at once and… Fuck, just trying to stay centered on a single version of Mick took everything he had. There was no point in telling Mick the truth when it couldn’t save him. It would just hurt them both.

He still watched, forced his cells together as much as he could and to stay in one fucking place so he could watch. Watched the team knock Mick down until they had to build themselves back up as one.

Amaya was…good. Flawed as anyone and uneducated in some things, but she listened when Mick explained pyromania and anxiety to her and when he told her that her view of mental health was outdated. Len could respect her and the way she was a little more careful with Mick on the bad days.

She let Mick talk about Len on those days, attentive while he went on about whatever story came to mind. Old jobs. The safe house in Gotham Len had loved and Mick had outright banned, because it was _Gotham_.

“You miss him,” she said, understanding and kind as one story tapered off with a sad chuckle.

“Built my fuckin’ life around him,” Mick agreed. He took another long drink from his beer like it’d numb the hurt.

Her eyes widened a little at the words, surprised, and Len wondered if anyone had bothered to tell her they’d been together. Maybe not, he considered. The others didn’t tend to talk about him much and Mick wasn’t a big talker in general, especially not when he had to talk about feelings. “You two…”

Mick grunted and took another sip of his beer. “Bastard loved starting shit. You shoulda seen the game of cat and mouse him and Sara had going,” he told her. “Kept telling him they needed to find a bed and get it over with.”

Amaya looked confused again. And vaguely concerned.

 

**4\. Jax**

Bright side, alternate him wasn’t some kind of hypocritical Nazi.

Downside, the alternate him had _puppets_.

Len didn’t even know where the man found puppet versions of the team. He didn’t think he wanted to know.

The humor of his existence was dampened by Stein’s death, though. He’d been ambivalent about the professor with his attitude and tendency to look down on the less moral of them, but he liked Jax. The kid was broken up about it, lost without his other half, and while Len hovered behind Mick unseen, he watched Jax get halfway to Mick just to change his mind and turn around. Searching for help and too scared to ask for it, Len thought. Poor kid.

If he’d had any effect on the world around him, he might have made something crash, cause some kind of noise that would make Mick look in Jax’s direction before the kid could turn tail and run.

He didn’t need to.

Somewhere near the fourteenth time, Mick cracked open a second beer and slid it to the empty spot next to him. “Take a seat, kid,” he said without turning around, because of course Mick had known Jax was there. He’d probably always known, but  he was letting the kid do what he needed to. Hide when he needed to hide.

Jax hesitated before he sat down, beer bottle clutched between two hands for a long time before he finally took a drink. “It’s my fault,” Jax said finally.

“He made his choice,” Mick countered. “Loved you enough that he wanted you to make it out if only one of you could.”

“He had a family!”

“And you’ve got a whole life ahead of you,” Mick reminded him, blunt but not without kindness. There was a tenderness with Jax. He was the youngest of the team and old enough to take care of himself, but Mick would always be a big brother. “Doesn’t make it any easier when you’re the one left behind, but it’s what you’ve got.”

“That what you do?”

Len wasn’t sure he actually _needed_ to breathe, but his breath still cut off suddenly. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to be a part of, much less be a spectator to, but he didn’t know how to _leave_. Thought it might have been his own fucking masochism that kept him there.

“Ain’t the same, kid,” Mick told him with a kind of tiredness that made Len’s throat feel tight. The hand that wasn’t holding the beer bottle reached up reflexively to brush against the chain around his neck he usually kept under his shirt. He’d been playing with the twin bands absently before Jax joined him, but they were still in the open and Len watched Jax’s eyes focus in on them. Watched them go wide for a minute, surprised, and quickly turn into a grief that was new and old.

“Mick…”

“Just keep going, kid,” Mick told him. “That’s what he wanted. Just live your damn life.”

Jax nodded, eyes wet, and they lapsed back into silence. The rings didn’t disappear back under Mick’s shirt while they nursed their beers and Len found himself staring at them. The way the platinum glinted off the lights and the way they laid against each other on the chain.

Jax kept looking too. Len wondered if it was guilt or the kid questioning his own future.

 

**5\. The Team**

The time stream spit him out in a whirl of colors and _pain_. Non-corporeal becoming corporeal again and Len hadn’t _felt_ in three years. But his knees collapsed under him and he crashed to uneven ground with a rock digging into his hip and… Wild eyes searched around, wide and watery because the daylight was too fucking bright. Blurry figures, gasps, and shouts.

Big hands on his shoulders.

He cried out, startled.

The hands moved up to hold his face and tilt it upwards. Get a good look, his mind supplied, but he had to press his eyes shut because of the way the light burned.

“You’re okay,” a voice said. _Mick’s_ voice, rough and gravelly and brittle in ways that Len knew meant Mick was about to lose his shit. “You’re okay, Lenny. You’re… _Fuck_.”

He wanted to say something, to tell Mick he was alright, but it might have been as much lie as it was truth. He was shaking and if anyone accused him of crying, he’d blame it on the way the light hurt his eyes, but he was alive? Back? He didn’t know what to call it.

Didn’t bother trying to figure it out as Mick hugged him hard, lips brushing over his cheek before Mick’s face was buried in his neck. Len held him back just as hard, like holding onto Mick would keep him from disappearing again and put him back together all at once.

“Must be happy to have your partner back, huh?” Ray asked Mick with a watery smile later, after they’d managed to pick themselves off the ground and acknowledged the others.

Mick’s arm tightened around Len’s waist, supporting and needing support all at once. “Yeah,” he said as Len leaned into him, body feeling weak. “Yeah, Haircut.”

Nate stared at them for another second before realization dawned. “Ohhh. _Partners_.”

Sara’s palm met her forehead.

Mick shook his head and shuffled Len on board.

 

**+1 Time They Didn’t Believe Them**

Mick was hurt. Mick was _hurt_. It was more fire and burns and this wasn’t supposed to happen again. It wasn’t supposed to…

They’d been too far away from the Waverider and Gideon’s med bay. Too far away from the futuristic saves and they’d had to settle for a hospital. It was 2012 and Len was back in another ER in another shitty city and losing his mind. Maybe losing Mick. He couldn’t fucking do this again. He couldn’t…

He’d put his wedding ring back on in the mad rush to get to the hospital. Paramedics bent over Mick in the ambulance and blood on his hands, Len had swallowed back bile and unhooked the ring from the chain around his neck. It didn’t fit him right anymore, knuckles just barely big enough that he had to force it down. Thanked a god he didn’t believe in and _had to_ right then that he’d been just this side of too skinny since the time stream had given him back to Mick. It felt too tight and he’d have a hell of a time getting it off later, but he needed it. Needed the connection. Needed the proof.

“I’m his husband,” he told the doctor when the man didn’t want to release any information. Dark eyes flickered down to the ring.

“Mr. Snart-”

“Rory,” he corrected, because when it came to hospitals and real names, he was always Leonard Rory. A city hall wedding. A name change somewhere down the road that might not have been at all legal. He’d never wanted to keep Lewis’ name, had downright laughed when Mick had made a joke about hyphenating.

“Mr. Rory,” the doctor corrected sympathetically, “the burns were extensive…”

He listened to the explanation and the promises that they’d do everything they could for him, and no one seemed to judge him for the way he sank into a chair and put his head in his hands.

“I wanna transfer him to Boston when he’s stable,” he said, because they could get Mick off-course in transport and get him back to the Waverider. Let Gideon heal him back up the way he’d been. Mick didn’t need more burns. He might look at the scars like some kind of religious communion with the fire, but not with the way the doctor was saying it had crippled him this time.

God, his face…

“It was a good idea,” Zari said to him after the doctor had left and they’d visited and Len had thrown up until his head spun. “Telling them you were married. They only would have talked to family.”

“You did it for the legal protections, right?” Nate guessed. “Since spouses can’t testify against each other.”

“And medical,” Ray added. As if he’d needed to.

“You want help getting the ring off?” Sara offered. “Pinky rings aren’t really meant for the other fingers. It looks like it’s starting to cut off circulation.”

“It wasn’t…” He wanted to say it wasn’t a pinky ring, that he’d been a scrawny shit when they’d gotten married and that, back then, it had fit on the proper finger. The words wouldn’t come, though, and he shook his head, pulling his hand in towards his chest. He could have Gideon resize it when they got back to the ship. Let her grow his finger back if she had to.

He wasn’t taking the damn thing off again.

The End


End file.
